Thursday, September 24, 2009

psychoses as numerous as the stars above

sophomore girl's class:

The worst class is the worst not because the students behave like rabid, undisciplined puppies (that better describes your normal all boy's class), but because it's the EARLIEST class of the day.

I hate it.
Everyone hates it.
Most students straggle in in a semi-lucid state just at the bell, but for those that drop in earlier that's pretty much what they do - drop into their seats and collapse against the table in exhaustion.
Don't I know that feeling.

Anyway, my classroom tends to be on the dark side. And particularly in the morning.
Purely by choice.

As I myself wandered past a dimly lit table of 3 early girls one of them piped up looking at slouched over student beside her,
"She's crazy."
"That's OK. Me too." was my response which produced a grinning, "Ooh, crazy friends!"

Yay! I got me my first native friend!

sophomore boy's class:

Korea once again brings out my violent streak.

The first grade had already one all day test last week and much to my chagrin the students informed me that now Midterms were next week.
Gawd forbid anyone should bother to tell me anything important.
I've gotten to mostly relay on the kids for information these days.

So in this case what is easiest, or better put least painful for all, is to give them the option of doing English work or studying for the test. (This school is ALL about testing since it is specifically a college preparatory school.) Naturally, the boy's classes hardly ever do any work in the first place, but at least by giving them an 'option' I appear to retain some shred of control.

So study for test it was.

Mostly it went smoothly but even so I found myself forced to make the occasional gaggle of students stand against the wall or separate them into different tables.

Towards the end of class however I heard a very loud and stern (and in English no less!) "Pick it up!" coming from a lone boy at one table. I wandered over to find a pen on the floor which upon inquiry was apparently thrown by another boy at the table cattycorner to him.
Naturally, said culprit denied anything of the sort right down to the big wide-eyed innocent look.
I wasn't buying it but without proof I suggested "Well, just throw it back at him."
"No, no, I can't. He'll hit me."
"So hit him back!"
Usually I get an enthusiastic "Really!?!" but this one just shook his head.
"You want me to hit him? I'll hit him for you!"
I sincerely meant it, too. (I would only have used my fan though.)
Fortunately for our would-be culprit the bell rang and everyone fled in a manner all too reminiscent of a stampede from the room.

Later on though I realized with my experience in Asian psychology, there was a very good chance that boy would have viewed that punishment as a reward.
Probably better that I never got to punish him.

Cheers! (^_-)-☆

Thanks again for stopping into my little corner of the 'net, and Happy Browsing!!

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